


To The Immortal Memory of the Tea-cake

by havisham



Series: WWI Silmarillion AU [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Fluff, M/M, Smoking, Tea, Unsettling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 23:38:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fingon and Maedhros take tea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To The Immortal Memory of the Tea-cake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oshun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oshun/gifts).



Finn met a stranger on the steps to Russell’ room. His expression was black as a thundercloud and he growled as he passed. Finn clutched the bannister and felt suddenly weak at his knees. He flew up the stairs and rushed into Russell’ room, not bothering to knock. 

He expected... Well, he didn’t know what he expected, perhaps something hideous, unspeakable, but the room looked exactly like it always did, with the table set for tea, and Russell at the window. He had his back to Finn, craning his neck to the opened window, smoke trailing through his long fingers.

Finn closed the door hurriedly, the slam echoing through the hallway. He knew there would be complaints, but he didn’t care. He locked it, and looked inquiringly at his friend. Russell turned, his face blank and his shoulders tensed. He relaxed when he saw that it was only Finn, and stubbed his cigarette on the window ledge. 

They both spoke at once. 

“Who was _that_?” 

“In trouble again? You’re not too old for a proper caning, you know.” 

Russell tried to smile, but it didn’t quite make it to his eyes. And before Finn could answer, he said, abruptly, “Do you want tea?” 

“Of course,” Finn said, throwing himself in the most comfortable chair. “Now, who was that … person?” Thinking back to his encounter on the stair, he could remember nothing of the man at all, except for the feeling one got when standing too close to a furnace -- a wave of overwhelming heat, and yourself, about to be set alight. 

Finn snatched up a tea-cake and crammed it into his mouth. He felt his heart rate slow down as the icing melted on his tongue.

Russell sat on the second-most comfortable chair, next to him, and slapped Finn’s hand as he reached for a second tea-cake. 

“Manners,” he said mildly, at Finn’s wounded look. 

“Russell,” Finn said, exasperatedly, but allowed Russell to pour out the tea -- his cousin knew exactly how he took it -- and this afternoon, nothing was said about the dangerous amount of sugar and cream Finn always wished to take with his tea. They drank quietly for a while -- with Finn steadily, and rather nervously eating the tea-cakes -- until Russell spoke up. 

“That was a colleague of my father’s. He wished to know why father declined to reply to his letters.”

Finn narrowed his eyes and said thoughtfully, “Why go to _you_ with your father’s business?” 

“He thought I would be easily influenced,” Russell said, with a small sip of his tea. 

“Ha-ha! He doesn’t know _you_ very well, does he?” 

They shared a private sort of smile, and Russell asked what Finn wished to speak to him about, if, in fact, he was not in trouble. Finn put down his tea-cup on the table and stretched out, giving Russell a radiant smile. “Do I need a reason to visit my most favorite cousin in the world?” 

Drily, Russell said, “If you want money, I’d advise you to write to your father.”

“But he says he won’t send more until the end of this month! It’s ridiculous, he gives Terry and I the same stipend, as if I had the same expenses as a first-year! And you can’t say anything or else he’d launch into a long lecture about how in his day, he was quite content with school, with the regular beatings and the terrible food, the obnoxious instructors, all of it to build character and to learn to play the game. Horrifying. Anyway, I’ve written to mother for money instead, and besides, I _did_ want to see you.”

Russell seemed a little stunned at this deluge of information, but he recovered admirably and said nothing. He finished his tea instead and gave Finn a severe look, but that had no discernable effect. 

Eventually, their talk, aimless now, turned to the subject of Russell’ soon leaving school. He planned to travel a while before taking his place at university, and his future seemed to stretch out before him, promising and bright. Finn was at turns wistful and envious. “There’ll be no one for me to talk to when you are gone,” he exclaimed, getting up and beginning pace around the room. Russell rang for the tea-things to be taken away. 

Finn stopped in front of the window and looked out to the lush green courtyard below. Moodily, he ground down the cigarette stub he found there. He glanced back at Russell and said, “Filthy habit.” 

“Mm, come here,” was Russell’ reply, and Finn crossed the room and seated himself on the arm of Russell’ chair. One day, not very long ago, he had been absolutely smashed and kissed his cousin (his friend, his one-time idol) right on the mouth. To his ever-lasting surprise, Russell kissed him back. 

Finn pressed a hand against Russell’ cheek, which felt very hot. Russell’ face too, was quite red, which clashed sadly with his hair. They had only kissed a little, touched a little, but with more desperation than their usual wont. Finn studied Russell’ face, tracing a finger down the bridge of Russell’ perfect nose. 

Musingly, he said, “Do you remember what your little brother called you, last time I was in Formenos?” 

Russell squirmed under him, and flushed even more. “Nothing!”

Finn kissed his cheek, lingering next to Russell’ ear. “Ah, now I do remember. They called you strawberry-head!” 

He laughed, and Russell wrapped an arm around him and said, gravely, “I am glad to see that you and my little brother share the same sense of humor. Never mind that he’s a child and you are...” 

“I am yours,” Finn said.

“Do I want you, I wonder?” Russell ran a hand through Finn’s hair, and Finn moved closer to him, if that was possible to do -- they were so close together already. 

Finn murmured into his ear. “What a stupid question. Of course you do, strawberry-head.” 

He paused and looked up, suddenly feeling that he ought to bring up the subject of Russell’ strange visitor up again, but he quelled that urge. Here was an afternoon of perfect happiness before them -- Russell tugged at his hand, meaning to stand, Finn let himself be led away -- he didn’t mean to waste it.  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Elleth, for taking a look at this, and letting me use that silly nickname. ^^


End file.
